Hey Guys, Let's Pokémon!
by PetalRabbit
Summary: Henrietta Reynolds is beginning her pokémon journey! What sort of exciting nonsense awaits her in the Dennis region? Let's Pokémon!
1. Chapter 1: In Which a Story Begins

**Chapter 1: In which a story begins**

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There are few things in this world that will excite a ten year old more than the prospect of adventure.

Actually, scratch that. Ten year olds are pretty excitable. There are probably a ton of things that would excite a ten year old just as much, if not more than the prospect of adventure. A swimming pool full of orange soda, for example. Or a rocket-powered skateboard. Or a viking dinosaur that plays bass guitar in a heavy metal band. This list could go on, but as I myself am a ten year old, I am simply too excited by the possibilities to continue.

And so we return to the topic of the day. Adventure. Adventure is what every kid dreams of. Adventure is what turns children into adults. I mean this quite literally; the law states that adventure is the right of passage into adulthood. And so once a year, great researches are required to enlist a large group of ten year olds as temporary aides and send them off towards their coming-of-age adventure. That is why I was rudely awakened one April morning, shoved into some new clothes, kicked out of the house and told to go visit Professor Dogwood.

The infamous Professor Dogwood was widely known to be a genius in his field, the studying of pokémon natures. He could tell the nature of a pokémon simply by looking at it, and then tell you how your pokémon would most likely perform in just about any endeavor. Unfortunately, he was also widely known to not care in the slightest for his employees, and the only help he was able to hire came in the form of the annual batch of often unprepared ten year olds like myself.

Approaching his lab, you could tell the lack of workers. The grass was overgrown and heavily weeded, the windows were dirty, the paint was chipped and there was enough junk lying around the property to supply a large chain of thrift shops for a couple years. I briefly wondered whether or not he would miss anything if it disappeared, before joining a tired and uncomfortable looking group of kids standing in front lab entrance.

"Hey Retta," a blonde standing by a broken bicycle yawned my nickname. This was a neighbor of mine, Elsie Gardener. I shuffled over to her and inspected her outfit before responding.

"You too then?"

She laughed. "Yep, my mom had me in this dress before I knew what was going on... I packed some more reasonable clothes while she wasn't looking though." The dress she was referring to was a pale shade of orange, tight, frilly, and covered in white lace. It was exactly the kind of thing her mother would dress her in, while the more reasonable clothes she mentioned were likely a pair of sweats and t-shirt; her usual attire. She pointed towards my own outfit and said, "Bet your sis dressed you, huh?"

She was correct. My older sister had come home from her adventure a month ago full of wisdom and experience. She suddenly knew exactly what I should be doing at every moment of my life and subsequently began micromanaging me into oblivion. This morning she had come into my room brandishing a bag full of equipment she deemed necessary and the clothes I was currently wearing; a floral print tank and a pair of khakis with enough pockets to carry around an office supplies store. She had then weaved my red hair into a pair of tight braids whilst telling me exactly what my team should be and how I should train them before handing me a book of every map in the world (full of her own annotations) and sending me on my way. I told this to Elsie.

She laughed again; it was pretty much her hobby. "At least you've got someone to call for trainer tips!" She told me. "My parents won't tell me a thing! They just kept saying," she slipped into a deeper voice, "'You'll learn soon enough' or," now a lighter, airier one, "'You'll have to figure that out on your own!'" Her impersonations were spot-on. A couple of the other kids looked around for Mr. and Mrs. Gardener.

Before I could respond, the doors slammed open and a tall man stepped out of the dark lab. The professor casually lit his cigarette and scratched his head before addressing us. "Right, so it's that time of year again..." He sighed. "Okay. You will each receive a pokémon and pokédex from me. Your mission is as follows: You are to catch one pokémon of each species, and record their behavior. This mission will last as long as it takes for you to do so. I expect you to fully evolve each and every one of your pokémon, and you must report back to me with at least one pokémon egg for the next group. If you have any questions, ask someone else." He then pulled a ball of paper out of his pocket and uncrumpled it. "So... when I call your name, enter the lab and choose your pokémon. Joey Adams, Whitney Allen..."

He barely paused between names. Kids scrambled to move through the crowd as they were summoned, pushing other out of the way and causing everyone there extreme discomfort. One by one the crowd entered the building, and one by one they came out again with their chosen pokémon partner. Elsie popped in and out with her Solosis and giggled "I'll wait for you, kay?" as she passed me. It wasn't too long before "Henrietta Reynolds" was called; my turn. I made my way to the front of the thinned crowd and through the doors into the lab.

There were no lights on inside. The room I had entered was full of pokéballs haphazardly strewn anywhere and everywhere. It was as if the professor had just shoved them in a bag as he got them and then dumped them all out. Pokéballs littered the table, the sofa, the floor, the shelves, there was even a couple balancing on top the fan blades. Guess I could just take any one of them and be on my way.

I looked around. Most of the pokéballs were plain, but some were greatballs, heal balls, quick balls, and a few were partially see-through; apparently he didn't care which kind he bought. I could see a Starly, a Tepig, a Wurmple... I didn't really want any of those. Making sure not to trip, I carefully made my way across the room, looking for a pokémon that caught my eye. What was it that Sis suggested? Pikachu? Electric types are really cool, but taking my sister's advice... my eyes landed on a Shinx.

Perfect.

I picked it up and let it out of it's pokéball. It looked confused for a second, then looked up at me and growled happily. Guess it's glad to see me. I checked it's back legs and found them to be solid black; so it's a he. "Should I nickname you or something?" I asked him. He purred in reply. "Alright then. Let's go..." I chose the first name that came to mind, "Fitzgerald." He expressed his feelings about his new name by jumping around my legs and following me back outside.

The professor glanced down at Fitzgerald as he handed my my pokédex. "Jolly nature... high in speed, low in special attack," he mumbled.

"Thanks," I said, though I don't think he was talking to me. And with that, I left.

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**Updates sporadically because i am lazy, so** **if you have any interest in this story, i recommend following it. I promise it won't be clogging your inbox. It will probably only show up once every month or two or three or seven.**


	2. Chapter 2: In Which Some Things Happen

**Chapter 2: In Which Some Things Happen**

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"I'm just saying, that's a lot of pokémon," Elsie said as we looted the professor's junk about ten minutes after the last kid had left the lab. "It took your sis, what, five years?"

"Four years, three months and seven days. And she expects me to beat her time." I told her, pulling a fishing pole loose from a pile of plush toys and hair care products. "Personally, I might just never come back. It's not like anyone's gonna miss me." This was a pretty frequent occurrence; kids abandoning their mission and going off on their own. It was one of the choices we were supposed to make- the easy life or the hard life.

Elsie giggled as she searched though up a box full of hats. "But your sis would miss you! She does care, y'know-" she stopped before excitedly waving her find at me. "Retta, look at this! Doesn't this look just like the hat that one guy wears?"

I turned around from the broken shoe cabinet I was looking through to see a red and white baseball cap with a familiar green logo in her hand. "That's... yeah, that does. Is the prof into cosplay?" I wondered aloud as she tried it on.

She practically squealed with glee."This is so cool! Retta, hats are cool. We should wear hats!" She declared, handing me about a dozen various hats she picked randomly from the box.

"No way," I told, handing them all back. I glanced around."Not until I change these clothes at least. Do you see a dresser or something around here?" She was disappointed for a second, then sprang back to her usual cheer and pointed me towards the lab. I stumbled a few paces forward to find an elegant, polished mahogany wardrobe on it's side. "Thanks," I called back before pulling the doors open.

The clothes inside fell out in a huge pile on the ground. Apparently the professor didn't care to put them away neatly... if they were even his. It was an odd array of clothing for men and women alike; nightclothes, formal wear, casual wear, athletics uniforms, costumes, in all sizes. There was even infant attire. I spent a good five minutes searching the pile for things that would suit both my taste and stature, switching them out with the clothes packed for me in my bag. I then looked around for a suitable place to change, quickly spotting an obvious blue police box and shouting to Elsie my intentions. She nodded as I made my way over to it and stepped inside.

I chose to switch the floral tank with a plain white one, matching it with a cropped purple jacket. The pants I would keep. Apparel with a multitude of pockets such as this is not something one should be so quick to let go of. I switched the sensible sneakers that had been laced on my feet for a completely unorthodox pair of Irish dancing shoes. Screw you, Sis; I play by my own rules.

Once satisfied with my new look, I stepped outside and narrowly avoided a head-on collision with Elsie and her pink gym bag as she rushed to get inside the police box . I quickly stepped out of the way and she tossed a deerstalker at me before filling the space I had previously occupied."My turn to play dress-up!" She grinned gleefully as she shut the door.

Okay, I had changed. I guess I could at least try on a hat for her. I looked at it for a moment.

This was no ordinary hat. A visor in both the front and back. A pair of flaps on the side, tied in a neat bow up top. A look so ridiculously unfashionable that its use was only permitted to one sort of person.

This was a hat for a great detective. Nothing less than she sharpest of minds with the most brilliant of deductions could wear this atrocity. Wearing this hat would be completely outrageous in any other situation. What sane person would wear a deerstalker if they weren't a great detective? Obviously I would. I put on the hat.

Oh god yes. The hat stays. Hats are cool.

I relished in my rebelliously stupid new look for a moment, then decided to go back to the wardrobe and search through the clothes-pile again while I was waiting. Maybe I could find a thing to dress Fitzgerald with. Was there a scarf or something? Anything silly enough to match, or rather clash with his name and my choice in accessory? I luckily found an item that was both those things, and ended up pocketing a fruit patterned bandana.

I was on a ridiculous-roll today. Any other random and completely useless things I could find to fill my bag? I was able to score two rubber band balls, a Hello Skitty deep-fryer, and a Buneary plushie with a built in camera before Elsie came back out in her white T shirt, olive beret and green sweats enthusiastically praising my hat and and ready to finally leave town.

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**I am sorry for leaving you all waiting for another marvelous chapter (Hahaha. Kidding. No one reads this. And actually, I'm not even sorry).  
**


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